The Cave
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: The cave knew many types of people. And it understood better than all of them. Written for Lady Phoenix Fire Rose's THE SCENERY COMPETITION Round 5.


**The Cave**

It began as all artefacts of nature did, from the origins of the world. Truthfully, not even it could remember what that was. It had heard numerous theories about the matter; the seas and the salty breeze carried many a word to it and it recalled them all. But its memory did not stretch to the days where there was no sea to soften its rock, no air to whittle away until it became a hollowed crevice of swords. Imperfect, the tools of nature were. It left ragged edges about, little hardened corners amidst a softening outside edge – and it didn't stop after the initial sculpture was complete. Indeed, there was no way of stopping it at all.

Nature did what it liked. It, the cave, simply bore witness to it.

–

_'Drip, drip, drip, splat,'_ went the small drizzle of water down the side of the cave. It was the only sound to be heard in the endless darkness. The air was frigid, almost icy. The walls possessed an unnatural smoothness, reminiscent of glass. The ground was just as smooth, and very slippery, making it difficult to walk. A ways into the cave the ground started to slant, making continuing on near impossible.

The boy at the back stopped walking, face gaunt. 'We can't go on.'

The one at the front turned sharply. 'Coward,' was all he said to spur his companion into movement again.

The girl between them flattened herself against the wall, her breath coming out in puffs of crystal. 'It's-'

The leader turned his sharp gaze to her. Her protest died in her throat.

–

Many people came and went….some of them after a fashion, a smaller number barely recognisable from those that had initially passed its lip. Several times its hole was occupied with worthless wealth, glittering gold that lost its lustre as the sea washed over their form. At other times, it was a treasure more valued but appreciated less. Little children – or sometimes older and far less innocent – captured and held within the fortress till the air carried them down or the sea outwards.

But of late, it had become more famous for passing through: in and out.

–

The boy stopped after a few steps. 'I-I can't-' he gasped, unshed tears burning his eyes as arms automatically shot out into the darkness and a single sneaker scurried for a foothold. The other was planted – and as far as he was concerned, Tom could use a crowbar and he would not budge.

Tom looked at him impassively, then sneered. 'Coward,' he repeated.

It was a single word, with a single meaning. But in the years of an elementary school boy, it meant the mass of all substance upon the earth. And it meant more, far more, to an orphan who had to prove his might, his _worth_, to the world.

–

There was something particularly alluring about darkness, and danger. Something attractive. That awoke the "daredevil", the egotistical altar in humankind…but they were the only ones who felt to such whims. Such weaknesses. Such traps…cages if one willed, for the frigid walls sloping down became an endless labyrinth in a single step.

It did end, of course. In a manner of speaking, all things did. But the cage eventually dipped into the sea. Into frozen pools of water. An endless supply of water and salt. Gases accumulating over billions of years. Knowledge accumulating for just as long.

Where that ended was beyond even the reach of the cage – the cave.

But humanity was blind. Even in the darkness, they could not see so far ahead.

–

'This has nothing to do with cowardliness. I can't see my nose in front of my face! My hands are numb, and the floor is so slippery and we're sloping and –'

'Blabbing,' Tom cut off. 'You're blabbing.' He didn't bother to correct the other's assertion. If one was trying to see their nose, they were doing a rather bad job keeping an eye on their surroundings, and that was the imperative action to undertake.

Amy Bishop said nothing. Only her ragged breathing echoed through the empty air that stank with salt.

–

It saw its share of foolish people. People who thought much of themselves, confident in their ability to endure the trials of nature. The trials of _life_. Most of them failed once they strayed too far from light, from solid support.

None of them remembered a time when the earth had not been solid at all. But it did. And deep in itself, the cave, it kept a little.

–

'I've been down there,' Tom said as the silence and inaction stretched.

'Yeah right.' Denny's voice was trembling like a stray leaf in the autumn breeze.

'You don't believe me?' There was something dangerous in the honey-sweet voice. 'I went the other way too.'

Amy gasped at that. Something dragged against stone. 'Oh no…the others…'

'I know the way out,' Tom replied.

The other two seriously hoped he did.

'But I want to go down.'

–

The cave had an infallible roof; the water leaked in through its mouth, its nose…little crevices on the wall, but never from the top. The sea did not reach that high. The rain was not strong enough to wear away the weathered stone.

Up was only darkness. Below was light. A different sort to that which glimmered at the cave's mouth.

A destructive light. For humanity that was. The cave endured. It saw all sorts of people after all, come and go. Not one had changed it.

–

'You-you said you've been down.' The voice quaked.

'I have.' The reply was calm. 'I wish to go further down. My time was…cut short.'

'Further…down?' Amy's words barely reached the ears of the two boys. 'What if we slip?'

'We won't slip.' There was the sound of something sliding.

Amy shrieked. Something spat, and then a flashlight went on, illuminating the naturally formed steps, heading towards the bottom.

'It's – working.' Somehow, Denny did not seem at ease with the addition of light.

Tom was almost out of sight. Neither of the two remaining wanted to follow…but if Tom didn't come back their way…

And one never knew with Tom.

–

Fear was what stopped all creatures who knew the scent of life. Humans were no exception. They simply had the capacity to wish that pain upon others. The capacity to think themselves exempt from such pain.

It, the cave, knew all sorts of people. It knew all of them fell to fear.

Man's idea of courage was warped indeed.

–

They were scared – beyond the point of denying – but they followed still. The battery spluttered and died, but the light remained. Almost as if the walls _were_ glass, trapping the rays for eternity.

Amy shivered, the whites of her eyes gleaming.

Up ahead, Tom stopped walking.

–

Things grew always. It was the nature of life. The nature of the world. They grew green. The colour of money: $100 bank notes. A symbol of wealth.

It was also a symbol of greed. And of the pride that came before the fall.

Plants were only green near the bottom, the bit closest to the blackened soil. As for green algae lining the lower moist walls of the cave…they looked mostly brown.

–

The cavern was illuminated with green. Their precarious trek had ended at the foot of a lake. Stones skipped right across; they resembled emeralds in their polish and their shine. The sort a girl would pay an arm and a leg fore to wear around their necks or upon their hand.

The tremors faded into the backs of their minds as they stepped closer. Towards the wonders. Like spiders caught in a web.

Tom smirked. Humans…were so easy to manipulate. This wasn't a field trip his two companions would forget in a hurry.

Nor would he. The experience had been invaluable; he had seen the greatest weapon the earth had to offer. Whatever was in the water would sink metaphorical claws into their mind. They were weak; they would struggle, flail about-

A flash appeared before him. He pushed it away; he was not like them.

He remembered the water – but never again did he touch it. His first – and only – touch had been with the barest hint of skin, just beneath the bandage that wrapped the welt on his hand. That covered the minute flaw: the goading, and the high pitched female laughter that had followed…

He relished the screams that commenced. The incoherent babbles. The smell of fear.

It was enough to drown within.

And it was always sweeter, more contrasted, with the background of safety…or worse, desire.

One always expected the road to gold to be made of molten coal…or cutting stone.

–

That was what brought humankind to ruin: their feeling of superiority, of supremacy. The thought that they are above all others, above the laws of nature, and of the world. Outside the deities that ruled (if they did; it was something the cave did not know). Outside the strings of fate (another thing it had no factual information about).

It knew though there _were_ laws. It also knew that humans were not above them. It, after all, was the witness to such.

–

They had run. Screaming. And gotten lost. The ranger had gone in to find them, and eventually he emerged; Amy was in his arms, Danny clung to a leg. Both were ragged and pail, sprouting unintelligible conversation, shivering with fright.

Tom was glad he was not frightened of anything.

He locked away the memory tinted with green. That was not him.

–

The cave knew many types of people. And it understood better than all of them.

But it did nothing.

* * *

**A/N: **Written for Lady Phoenix Fire Rose's THE SCENERY COMPETITION Round 5. Rounds 1-4 can be found in the collection "The Vigilant Night".

Word count: 1614


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